


Quentin's Type of Man (Halloween Edition)

by lunaraindrop



Series: October 31 Days of Queliot (and maybe other ships) Challege [3]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Addams Family References, Getting Together, Halloween, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Romeo and Juliet References, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Willy Wonka References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-13 15:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21162377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaraindrop/pseuds/lunaraindrop
Summary: Eliot finds out something life changing while eavesdropping on Quentin and Julia as they watch The Addams Family.*no flowers were harmed in the making of this story.





	Quentin's Type of Man (Halloween Edition)

**Author's Note:**

> I finally did it! I fleshed out my story from Tumblr! I hope you like this version as much as the previous version. Lots of love and thank yous to the lovely people who liked and shared the Tumblr version. To the new readers of this version, I hope you like it! <3
> 
> This is part of my Oct 31 Days of Queliot (and maybe other ships) Challenge!
> 
> My prompt word from anon was "blood".
> 
> Comments and Kudos = Love!

* * *

If anyone had ever told Eliot Waugh that he would finally get his favorite high-strung nerd to be his because of _The Addams Family_, he would have laughed and then asked them what magical shit they were smoking.

After all, it would have to have been good shit, because up until that point Eliot had stayed sadly in Q’s friendzone.

After meeting Quentin, he had tried all of his usual tricks to draw cute little first year boys into his web. He postured himself like a proud peacock as the King of the Physical Kids, flaunting his power over his over-schooled subjects with parties and wild nights in his very best suits. He showed off his mixology skills with a flourish and served Quentin special cocktails. He flirtily touched his arms and would shoot Q his best bedroom eyes.

Only…Quentin didn’t seem to pick up any hints. Sure, he seemed to really like Eliot and enjoy his company, which was frankly really nice. He would seek Eliot out just to talk. The endearing nerd really seemed to care about Eliot and what he had to say and think. What really got Eliot though was when Quentin would come up to him out of nowhere and just…place his head on Eliot’s shoulder. Just like that. Like he considered the two of them close enough friends to do that. Like he trusted that Eliot would welcome the weight of his weary little brain.

Like Eliot was his somewhere safe to rest his head.

…

That did shit to Eliot’s heart, okay?

When he realized that his Q meant more to him than just some possible one-night stand… that he was actually one of the best friends he ever had…that he might, scarily, actually _love _Quentin… he changed his approach.

Loud parties still happened, but Eliot made time to sit and listen to Quentin read chapters of his favorite books. (His excuse was that his Audible app didn’t work inside Brakebills’ ward and he preferred to listen to stories. Quentin was more than thrilled to read the _Fillory and Further_ series to him, as well as some classics. His Victor Frankenstein voice was mesmerizing.) He would also help Quentin out with spellwork that troubled him. (It made for great excuses to touch his strong, flexible hands. He could spend hours just molding those fingers like modeling clay.)

He continues to invent new cocktails, each one tailored to Q’s tastes. Each cocktail named more outlandish than the last, just to make Quentin laugh and smile. (He particularly liked the blood orange and sage wine spritzer he called _Penny-is-an-Ass-but-This-Doesn’t-Taste-Like-That _after an argument with said ass. Quentin actually **giggled **and slid out of his chair. Eliot really liked the sound of that giggle.)

Flirty touches didn’t really go away, exactly. He’s a flirt. Instead he felt the natural progression of lingering touches turn into smoothing wrinkles on sweaters and tucking stray hair away from soft brown eyes. He couldn’t help himself. He is a very touchy-feely type of man. Ask Margo. He could hardly stop himself from twirling her around the living room if he was in a good mood, let alone unglue himself from her hip. It was only a matter time before he dragged Quentin close for a cuddles and hugs. Quentin didn’t seem to mind though, if by the way he curled into Eliot’s side on the couch and started hugging him in greetings were anything to go by. On one memorable occasion he asked Eliot to teach him how to waltz. (Of course it was more like Eliot directing which way a tetchy Q should stumble, but they did halfway glide around the room and ended up laughing in each other’s arms with aching feet on the floor after all was said and done. Eliot had never had so much fun dancing. All the clubs in Amsterdam could not compare.)

So, they were close.

Eliot could safely make Quentin a friendship bracelet and declare them BFFs at sleepaway camp. Don’t get him wrong, he was humbled and honored to be one of Q’s closest confidants. He cherished the fuck out of that. Bambi was one of the most important people in his life, and she wasn’t a romantic partner. He and Q could have something like that.

But that was as close as they were going to get.

Or so he believed.

He had tried to woo the darling man, but Quentin remained clueless. At the beginning of their friendship he thought he and Margo sensed twinges of a possible queerness but wrote it off after a few weeks. (Actually, after Q never taking the bait and his lingering glances in Alice Quinn’s direction.) Just his luck, Quentin was straight.

He was never gladder to be proven wrong.

Everything changed on the eve of Halloween. Eliot had just gotten news that his and Margo’s epic plans had to be canceled. Apparently, Miss Quinn swung both ways and finally fell to Bambi’s charms. She was taking the Nancy Drew wannabe out for ice cream sundaes (and maybe having some other cream back in her room later that evening is she was lucky). So much for the Spooky Ghoul rave in that exclusive warehouse in Brooklyn.

He was walking up the cottage stairs, fully prepared to bug Quentin into watching the _Carrie_ episode of Riverdale with him, when he remembered that he was also busy that night. He and his friend Julia had some type of kiddie tradition that they would watch Halloween movies together the day before Halloween. “Eliot, you don’t get it! It’s the-uh like **last time** to authentically watch Halloween -themed movies while they’re relevant for the year! It’s watch now or forever hold you scream! Well, until next year.”

God, he was such a nerd. Why was that so hot?

Getting closer to the Quentin’s room he debated crashing their traditional little marathon. Peeking in he saw the two of them on Q’s bed watching some movie on a laptop. Quentin was sitting upright by the headboard, hugging a pillow and munching on some popcorn from a bowl. Julia was lying on her belly, feet in the air. Both of them were avidly watching what sounded like _The Addams Family_ on the screen, and they traded commentary back and forth.

Eliot sighed and stepped away. Julia was Quentin’s Margo. As much as he would love to squeeze himself between the two of them, he respected that they should have their time to themselves. Let the two friends critique how Gomez and Morticia fell in love in a graveyard.

Eliot turned away just as a large crescendo of beautiful yet eerie music flow from the speakers.

\---

On the screen Gomez and Morticia were being romantic. Quentin gave a forlorn sigh into his pillow. Julia closed her eyes. Based on history, she knew what was going to come next. Pulling his chin up, Quentin pouted. “I want a Gomez. Why can’t I have a Gomez?”

Julia turned her head towards her best friend. “Q, you’re worse than Veruca Salt.”

He just frowned harder. “I mean it, Jules!”

Eliot nearly tripped over his own feet, staring wide-eyed at the door frame. _Did I hear that right?! What does he mean exactly? Is that man-crush envy or fuckability? Could Q want to fuck Gomez Addams?! _Deciding to get to the bottom if it, Eliot pressed himself close to the wall to eavesdrop.

Julia grabbed a handful of popcorn and threw it at Quentin. “Q, you always say that.”

Quentin, who completely ignored the popcorn thrown at him continued to glower at the screen. “It’s because I always mean it.”

Getting up from the bed, Julia walked over to the desk to take a drink of coconut water. Eliot slid further into the shadows to remain unseen. That didn’t mean that he missed her rolling her eyes and whispering to herself.

“Here we go…”

Quentin gestured excitedly at the screen. “Come on, Jules! He’s like, the perfect man! He’s ardent! He’s sexual! He’s always impeccably dressed-“

From what Julia said to herself and her exasperated sigh as she sat down next to her best friend, this startlingly interesting conversation was a reoccurring one. Julia resignedly looked up towards the ceiling. “God, Q, not the speech again-“

Quentin carried on like he had not been interrupted, eyes enraptured on the eerie affectionate couple. “Look how he loves her! He dotes on her, Jules. He would kill for her-“

“-he would kill for less-“

“-he would die for her-“

Eliot’s heart was pounding. In all of his time knowing Quentin, he had never heard him use his obsessive love and theory talk about romance. Mythology? Philosophy? Magic he found fascinating? Of course. Fantasy novels? The man would ramble and babble endlessly. It was so cute how passionate and into things he could be. To see his little nerd using that passion usually saved up for geekery and knowledge turned towards romance? It was honestly making Eliot hard and weak kneed.

Julia carried on, unaware that Eliot stood just outside the door and was effected so. “-that’s too Romeo and Juliet bullshit for me.”

Quentin stood up in offence. “Hey! Y-you take that back! Juliet was thirteen and Romeo’s rebound after Roseline. They are nothing alike!”

Julia smirked. “Just admit that you like loud, passionate men that dress for another century.”

Eliot’s eyes widened. Julia was talking like she knew something. Like she knew for a fact that Quentin liked men. Men of a certain type. Could this be true?

Quentin…didn’t even seemed phased. If anything, his facial expressions said _duh_ as he popped some popcorn into his mouth. “Uh, yeah. Not going to argue.”

Eliot nearly swallows his tongue.

That was confirmation. Quentin _did_ like men. That meant Eliot might still have some type of chance! As he was trying to quickly map out some plans to go over with Margo to possibly woo Quentin once and for all, a bombshell was dropped on him.

With an self-satisfied smile, Julia bumped shoulders with Quentin. “You **_do _**know you just basically described Eliot too, right?”

Quentin, for God’s sake, _pouted_ again and hugs knees! “Yeah, well, I always want an Eliot too….like that’s ever going to happen though.”

Eliot felt himself sliding down the wall. Was this what shock felt like? Quentin…wanted him?!

WHEN THE FUCK DID THAT HAPPEN?!

And the little shit didn’t think he wanted him back?!

Was he BLIND?!

He had used some of his** best** moves on him!

The only thing he didn’t do was give him a written declaration of his affections before sucking his misguided brains through his dick. (Actually, Margo’s idea)

He was starting to think that maybe he _should_ have.

Some time must have passed before his hearing tuned back into their conversation. He crept back over on the floor and carefully peered back in.

“Morticia sucks.”

“And why is that? I think she’s great.”

“Because she gets a Gomez. And fucking flowers too! Therefore, she sucks.”

“Aww, Q. Do you want some roses to cut the blooms off?”

Quentin frowned again. “No. My Gomez would cut them off for me-“

Julia laughed. "You’re so lazy.”

“-a-and use the petals to make things like, uh, romantic and shit.”

Julia turned to Quentin and lifted an amused eyebrow. “And shit?”

For the first time in a while, Quentin smiled. It was a dreamy, hazy thing. He normally only got like that when he talked about Fillory. “Yeah, and shit.”

At that moment Eliot knew what to do. Quietly getting up from his shadowed spot in the hallway, he made his wat quickly and quietly to his room. He had some scheming to do.

* * *

The next day Quentin found a vase in the dining room with his name on it. It has twelve red, long stem rose stems, all beheaded, and the rose petals scattered like blood across the room.

Quentin stood in the room in wide-eyed shock. _This_ is what he had been talking about last night with Julia! While some, okay, most people would find this strange…this was exactly what he wanted.

_Jesus, talk about a romantic gesture! I think I might faint._

Julia came up behind him and almost dropped her bowl of oatmeal. Faintly she whispered, “What…the…fuck…”

Penny, who had stayed over with Kady the night before walked in and stared at the room in bewilderment. Then he turned and pointed at Quentin accusingly. “Dude, what the fuck happened in here? Who did you piss off?”

Quentin, still wide-eyed in disbelief, trembled and opened the card with the flowers.

** _My darling, adorable, morbid Q. You’re so weird. I love it. Let’s have a picnic and go make-out in a graveyard under the moonlight. Let me whisk you off your feet and dance in the shadows, and kiss until our lips are bruised and aching. We can be romantic and shit._ **

** _-Love your ardent admirer Eliot_ **

** _P.S Your door was open, and I totally eavesdropped. Whoops. I hope you like roses._ **

Quentin subsequently ignored Penny and pressed the card to his frantically beating heart.

“Holy fucking shit, I’m in love.” He desperately turned to Julia and shoved the card into her hands.

“Read this! Right now! Tell me if I am seeing things, or if…Jesus! D-did Eliot just…?!”

Julia quietly read the card, and a slow smile bloomed across her face. This made Quentin release a breath that was both a bark of disbelief and harsh exhale of joy. He took the card back and started to absentmindedly pick up rose petals.

Julia turned to Penny. “Q is going on a picnic in a graveyard.”

Penny looked at both of them like they had lost their minds. “That is some creepy fucked up shit.”

Looking up from a particularly interesting rose stem, Quentin caught movement in the corner of his eye. It was Eliot, dressed in silvers and blacks, accented with a red tie. He could tell that Eliot was trying to not be caught but was too curious for his answer. Their eyes locked. When Eliot’s curiosity and apparent apprehension melted into dark, passionate, exuberant fire, Quentin felt his breath catch.

_Holy shit. This is **real**._

Overwhelmed with happiness and a kindling hunger, he beamed and never took his eyes off of his very own Gomez as he answered Penny back.

“Yeah. Isn’t it great?”

* * *

Kudos and Comments = Love!


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